I was sitting around somewhere the other day when it hit me that I'm in Spain. Well, honestly and a little sadly, it's not super clear in my head that I'm in Spain yet. It was more of the realization that I made it here. Since the day I knew what studying abroad was in early high school/middle school I've said that I'm going to study in Spain, and now I'm here. Pretty much a life long dream come true. Pretty cool. Definitely a blessing. It's definitely been an experience and hasn't been exactly what I dreamed it would be, but that's ok with me. I'm here. As my time here keeps getting shorter and shorter I'm finding it so much more beautiful and interesting and I know that by the time it's time for me to leave it's going to be exactly what I always wanted it to be. Which sucks, but for it to hit that point for only a day will mean the world to me.
I went to a bullfight. It was not at all cool. I understand that it's part of the Spanish culture, but it's so cruel to the bull. I have tons of video of the bull fight and when you see it you'll definitely agree that no animal deserves what these bulls get. That's why I'll post this.
This was definitely more enjoyable to me than seeing bulls die, because in case you didn't know at every bull fight six bulls die. Even though this bull totally stuck it to this guy and was definitely the better being in the arena, it had no control over it's fate. It'll always be destined to die. Which I don't think is fair. It did make for a lot of good pictures though. If you ever have the opportunity to see one I'd say go for it, but be warned that by the end of it you won't ever want to go again. It's one of those things you have to do once, once you've seen it once you know once is enough. Or I might be wrong and you'll think it's way more entertaining than Nintendo Wii. I highly doubt that though.
I'm just throwing this in here because it's something that's rolled around my head lately. Be warned, it's about my Dad.
Anyways, it came to my attention the other day that not once did I ever think my Dad was mad at me. Well there was this one time my senior year in high school where I wasn't in the top ten percent during the first part of the semester. He was kind of mad about that and I think he had reason to be. There was no reason for me not to be except for my own laziness and slacking off. Anything and everything I needed to succeed and do well were provided by him and my mother and I'm pretty smart so I should have never been on the bubble. In return I was a little peeved myself, but I had no real reason to be I just didn't want to admit that I had dropped the ball. Luckily I managed to pick up the pace that last semester and made it back in. After that my Dad actually sort of apologized to me. Which was totally out of left field. It meant a lot. But that was my Dad, he was a good guy. One time when I was in RA's I missed the bus for a walk-a-thon in San Jacinto, as in where the battle of San Jacinto occurred, and my Dad drove me all the way there. And although we never actually found anyone from my RA's group I was still there. There were also all the projects that I left for the last minute that he'd help me out with. Most outward frustration that came from these night was from my mom, but it was well deserved because those nights were always ridiculous and she warned me all the time about leaving things for the last minute. One time we built an entire zoo in one night. My mom and dad made benches, potted plants, and all sorts of things out of things we had lying around. It was a pretty sweet zoo. If my Dad was really ever angry at me he never let me know it. I remember a little frustration here and there, but that's it. He was a bunch of love to me and he'd do anything for us, and he showed it time and time again. He was pretty great.
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